


Pluto and Kore and the Kingdom of Cronus (Et Plutonem Core et Merari regni Cronus)

by TheEternalEmpress



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Astral Projection, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Supernatural Elements, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-12-06 20:41:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11608536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEternalEmpress/pseuds/TheEternalEmpress
Summary: The first time it happened, Mu Alexius is caught unaware. Sleeping in his private chambers one moment, and sleeping with Scheherazade the next. Honestly, what’s going on? Mu/Scheherazade, Pernadius/Scheherazade. Pre-summit arc.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've always wanted to write a Scheherazade fic but never had the chance to. So here we are.

The first time it happened, Mu Alexius is caught unaware.

Mu wakes up in high alert when his ears detect a sharp ringing like the sound of falling debris or an enemy magician intruding Reim's air space. It isn't unusual; throughout his life he has seen many attempts to the late Magi, Scheherazade's life. Assassins do not pick the time when they strike. Without the Fanalis Corp's heightened senses and Scheherazade's powerful _borg,_ some of the attempts would have been fatal. But, this new magi, Titus, is not Scheherazade. Scheherazade knows when and how assassin strikes, but Titus? Titus is a young boy who knows nothing about assassinations or struggles to power. Scheherazade has been sure to shield her clones – no, her sons and her daughters – from that kind of life.

It takes him a while to open his eyes and move his body. He feels more sluggish than usual, as if he has lost the strength and capability that put the Fanalis above a regular human in terms of physical strength. Mu fears that a spell has been cast upon, but he worries not as the Fanalis Corps are not as easily affected by magical binds and no magician can affect as many as his men. His senses, dull and weary, take their time to become aware of his surroundings. He reaches his first conclusion rather quickly: this is not his chambers.

The whole room has changed. Although he insisted to keep it simple, his quarters have been rather impressive, with walls accounted with gold, red velvet drapes, and a large window to overview Reim's beautiful city and the cliff in which the Hero General Pernadius Alexius has been laid to rest. But, this room is just half of what his quarters are supposed to be with cotton drapes, small windows, and white walls. His bed, layered with multiple pillows and purple drapes, is simply not his. He never sleeps with so many pillows with him, much more taking a woman with him.

No spell could teleport him to a different chamber – and for what purpose? And why would a woman be here? He has never seen such an assassination attempt as complicated as this, but he clearly knows that something is not right. Unfortunately, he is out of his element, but he does find a dagger at his bed side and an all-too familiar staff that only two people of this earth has wielded.

His mind flares with anger and he looks at the woman at his side to find answers. But the woman, oblivious and in slumber, shifts closer to him, to his naked form, and all his anger freezes in one sweep.

Lo and behold, his Lady Scheherazade in the flesh.

The golden hair, the petite features, and her pale skin – he has missed every bit since she had sacrificed herself during Magnostadt's war. But, now, here she is, alive and breathing. He could feel the softness of his skin against hers, the warmth of her fingertips on his hand. He realizes that she has been holding his hand, a hand that doesn't look like his. His mind jumps and turns in confusion, and Scheherazade awakes. Mu is mesmerized in her grace, her beauty, that he is too late to realize that she is naked, as naked as he, and he sees what everything she has to offer.

Embarrassed, he looks at drapes and tries to hide the growing arousal in his stomach. Scheherazade, on the other hand, is unfazed.

"…What are you doing?" she asks, lacking the power and serenity in her tone that she, as a ruler, has cultivated. Rather, her voice sounds natural, unkempt, ordinary as she would if she had not been Reim's Magi.

Despite his confusion, he does not fail to address his Magi. He salutes her just as any soldier would, trying to compose himself from this surreal experience. "M-My Lady," he speaks, missing how those words rolled in his tongue. He tries to keep his eyes on the sheets and not on that pale thigh and smooth skin that is begging to be touched.

"What?" Scheherazade only replies. Then, she snorts – something that he had never imagined his ruler would do – and laughs. A hearty and boisterous laugh that Mu would hear among his Corps. He had never imagined that Scheherazade has been capable of doing such a thing as she had always been silent; only speaking when she needs to. The raw emotion of her voice prompts him to look up, desperate to see his ruler laugh for the first time. And he does – he sees her laugh in her all-Scheherazade way: mouth wide and eyes crinkled. She looks _so_ alive.

Unable to hold it in, his tears started to flow. Scheherazade, seeing Mu's reaction, abruptly stops laughing. "W-wait," she stutters, moving closer to Mu. Mu tries to shield his face – he cannot show a sign of weakness in front of his Magi – but his magi cups his face with a sheer force that would make Myron proud, and raises his head to stare back at her. She squints as she inspects Mu's tears, and Mu finds something, a scar, on Scheherazade's cheek. He grows immediately alarmed. "Are…Are you _crying?"_ she asks.

"You have a scar," his concern for his Majesty outgrows his intense happiness to see her again and, without a second thought, he runs his thumb across it. He realizes what he has done a second after, but Scheherazade cups his hand and presses it against her cheek. Such an intimate gesture he has never imagined his magi doing to him. His arousal grows stronger.

"Yeah, _duh_ ," she says. "When we go to battle, our enemies don't necessarily hit us with pillows, do they?" then she turns and presses a soft kiss on his palm and he feels his neck grow warmer. "Hey, why are you crying? Bad dream? Is it about that magician again?"

He tries to find his words, but it's hard when his throat is dry and his mind is asking why Scheherazade is still alive. His mind wants to believe that this is all dream – only in dreams can he find Scheherazade like this – but she feels too alive, too real. He can feel her and she can feel him. "You died." He finally speaks. "You died and I couldn't do anything about it."

Her blue eyes shine in understanding. "Oh," she says, and Mu is almost afraid that she remembers that she's dead and will evaporate in any moment's notice. "But I'm alive, aren't I? I'm here. I've sworn to protect you, and no man, animal, or some stinky old magician can ever make me break that promise," Mu stills when Scheherazade leans forward, letting the blanket slips from her hips. Mu finds it hard to breathe as he takes a second look at his Majesty's flesh – her succulent breasts, her smooth stomach, her curved thighs, her warm womanhood. She strokes his cheek, puts his hands on her hips, and kisses him. Mu swears he forgot to breathe when he can feel her soft and warm lips on him, then her slippery tongue. The sounds of their lips smacking is slowly driving him on the edge, especially when his ruler demands entrance to his mouth.

With his desire and instinct raging to have a taste of Scheherazade's flesh, how could he not obey?

He slowly succumbs to a world of pleasure that he had known that Scheherazade is capable of. Her dominance, her technique is unbecoming of the High Priestess. Her kiss is enough to rile his cock to a full-blown erection, and when he accidentally pokes her with it, she gives him a coy smile.

"In your dream, I died, didn't I?" Mu can only nod. But, in the back of his mind, he knows that it isn't a dream. Scheherzade is truly dead; he can still remember how cold she felt. "Then, let me show you how _alive_ I am right now." Without hesitation, she plunges her heat into his, and it takes all Mu's willpower not to come inside. He fights his primal urges as she gets accustomed to his length. She moves so slowly at first, then quickens her pace. She is giving out noises that is making hard for Mu to restrain the Fanalis inside him.

"Holy Kimaris! Don't just sit there, do _something!"_ she screams, and Mu lets the beast out. He pushes her to bed, lifts her legs, and claims her. He claims her hard, pushes himself to her boundaries. He pours everything – his passion, his unrequited love, his desire to see her one last time – into his thrusts, which she responds with her beautiful moans and screams. A second later, he feels her come against his thrust, and soon, he comes as well, filling her womb with his hot sticky seed. In reality, he would've been worried that he had just impregnated the High Priestess, but this is all a dream and he will not waste his time pondering the whys and hows when Scheherazade is his woman for the night.

He lays next to her, exhausted and satisfied. But, he can feel the slumber creeping upon him and he is desperate to clung to this dream, to hold his ruler for one last time. He moves to trap her into an embrace and whispers. "Lady Scheherazade…"

"Don't call me 'Lady', that's weird," she huffs. She wiggles in his embrace to free her hand, and pokes his cheek with her finger. "Just call me 'Sche', like you always do."

'Sche'? It's too awfully familiar for someone like him to utter. "But…you are…our High Priestess…"

She snorts again. Mu is finding that incredibly cute. "Whaaaat. Honestly, what are you thinking? Me, a vestal maiden? I'd rather swim in Cathargo!" she says. "What's up with you tonight? Just go to sleep. You become weird when that old magician riles you up. Now go, sleep, else I'll put a spell on you!"

Mu chuckles, finding Scheherazade's scolding to be humorous. But in truth, he feels crying. His dream is about to end, and Scheherazade will just be nothing but a remainder of Reim's majestic history. His thoughts are broken when she presses a chaste kiss on his forehead. "I will never leave you, that I promise you," she says as she brings his face close to her chest, where Mu can hear her heartbeat. "I will make your line flourish. I will give you the kingdom you deserve. And I will make you King, Pernadius."

_Pernadius?_ Mu thinks as his body starts to shut down. But, Scheherazade is unaware of Mu's predicament and strokes his hair to lull him to sleep. "Good night my king," she murmurs and the world slowly fade to black.

"Wait!" Mu screams as he jolts from his bed. But, it is too late. He is back to his chambers and his view of Pernadius Alexius' grave, now also Scheherazade's, at the horizon. Scheherazade is not here or the traces of her scent and warmth, but he can feel his seed staining his sheets, his cock tired from a rigorous activity. The dream is over, and he is left nothing but bitter memories and shameful stains.

Trying to forget this dream, Mu quietly cleans up, suits his gear, and makes early rounds around the castle premises. He greets and meets his Fanalis Corps like he does every single day, but he feels empty. He misses her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No smut, though mystery and clues galore. Sad Mu, though.

The second time it happened, he is with Titus, Sphintus, and Marga; and it happened in the Royal library.

Ever since that dream, Mu admits that he hasn’t been his usual self. But how could he, when his heart has been truly Scheherazade’s? He has been in love with her for so long and that dream has made him realize how much he has yearned for her. But, now she’s gone, and the spot where she lives in his heart is empty. No-one can fill such an immense void. But, Titus has other ideas. Innovative and kind like his mother, Titus has made it his mission to cheer him up – if he can recall his hushed conversations with Sphintus and Marga correctly. It has been amusing to hear their ideas, from sending him to a place full of women (inspired from Sphintus’ idea) to giving him a big spear. But, the three of them has decided to further ‘investigate’ their target by asking his leading questions that might give them some clues. Touched by their efforts, he follows along even though Sphintus definitely knows that he knows what they’re up to.

Hence, the Royal library, a place of unlimited knowledge and subjects of which Mu is expected to find interest in.  

The Royal library is an exclusive place open to the highest of Generals, the line of the Emperor, the Alexius family, and a handful of Vestal maidens and scholars of Scheherazade’s picking. This grandiose place is one of the gifts that have been given to Scheherazade when she assumed position of High Priestess. It has been in her possession for 200 hundred years and served as her solace when she feels overwhelmed with the affairs of her Empire. Mu remembers the first time he has been here; when he and Myron were little, they had squandered at the library by accident. The colour of their hair made it hard for them to be accepted by most of the Reim’s highest officials and one proud scholar who had seen them more as slaves rather than an Alexius, had hurt Myron for trespassing. Surprisingly, it is Scheherazade who witnessed the incident and delivered the punishment – Mu has never seen the gentle priestess so angry. But afterwards, the high priestess healed Myron’s wounds and hugged her as gently as any mother would. They had spent that entire day on the library, the High Priestess making sure that the siblings are safe and content. Mu remembers how Scheherazade made them sit on the cushions while she told them of the most adventurous and awe-inspiring tales – of magical creatures and dungeons and of the loveable village idiot who turned hero and won the hand of the warrior princess. Scheherazade made Myron so happy that the latter swore that she’d become like the warrior princess, so strong that she’d protect her loved ones from harm.

But, that is nothing more than a distant memory. Maybe that is the reason why Myron rarely visits the library anymore. Maybe it reminds her of the gentle times with the High Priestess; when they do not know of the impending crises and invasions that will constantly test their Empire’s foundations. Does she feel the same melancholic nostalgia as he does?

“Mu! What do you think about cats?” Titus asks, snapping him back to reality. The High Priest shows an open book filled with images of different cats on each page. Titus and Marga anticipate excitedly, while Sphintus looks on, quietly observing.

“They are…fluffy creatures, I suppose,” he says. When he sees the excitement in the young magi and his companion’s faces, he quickly changes his answer. “But, I don’t find myself with a pet. As a soldier, I’m always at travel and won’t have time to tend to their affairs.” Titus and Marga’s faces deflate and they go back to the shelves to find more books.

While the magi and his companion are distracted, Sphintus comes, like a snake finally having its opportunity to pounce on his target. “Mister…Alexius?”

“Call me Mu. The High Priest seems to prefer calling me that way,” Mu replies.

Sphintus rolls his eyes. “But I’m not Titus, am I?” realizing his rather brash reply, he coughs. “I have been observing you as of late. You haven’t been looking so well. And your rukh – how can I say this – has been acting…odd.”

Mu turns to the magician healer. “Odd?” he pauses. “How?”

Sphintus takes a step back, slightly intimidated by the Fanalis. “I-I can’t pinpoint it, but that is how it appears to be. It isn’t good or bad, but it is a subject of concern,” he says. “The rukh is the best way to see if a person is healthy or not. I really encourage you to visit a doctor in your spare time; you need it.”

“I see…” Mu looks pensively at the young magi and Marga, hidden in between the bookshelves where Scheherazade once walked, before he sighs. “Thank you for your input. I’ll go when time permits me.”

“Mr. Mu!” Marga exclaims as she runs to him, a thick scroll between her arms. The scroll is larger than most of the scrolls in the library, but she carries them with little or no difficulty. It is a wonder how much she has grown strong and bright; one day, she will grow to be one fine citizen of Reim and maybe then come Titus’ first King vessel if the time is right. Once she reaches them, she lifts the scroll to the Fanalis as if showing a treasure she found hidden in the wilderness of books and scrolls. “Do you like fairy tales? I found one about this about a soldier and a princess, and when I saw the soldier, I immediately thought of you! I thought you might like it!”

Mu smiles, thankful by Marga’s thoughtfulness, but dumbfounded as to what to do with the scroll. “Thank you Marga,” he says, taking the scroll, so she won’t have to bear the weight. The scroll looks like it is one of the antique collections of this library, and he reminds himself to put this back to its appropriate shelf as old scrolls have centuries old of knowledge written on its weak and dying pages. On its letter bind, gold inscriptions shine against its flaking glory.  

“Pluto and Kore and the Kingdom of Cronus?” Sphintus reads, squinting at the letters that are slowly fading from the leather bind. “By….”

“Lady Scheherazade.” Mu continues. His hands might have started shivering. “This is hers.”

In the blink of an eye, the environment shifts; the library disappears and the scroll changes to a different one. This time, he is transported in a small study chamber fashioned like Balbadd’s commoner buildings, but colourful fabrics hung on the walls and the large window is shaped in a long cylindrical manner with a point top. There is a desk in front of him and a set of cushions for gatherings, but there is no-one in the room with him. Mu can tell that it is the prime of the afternoon by the colour of the sunlight, and beyond his window, he can see women filling up pots from a stone well.

 A knock reverberates from the door. Without his consent, the door opens and a man of navy dark hair and thick clothes comes inside. With his attire, he looks like a male cleric. “Oh, you’re awake,” he nonchalantly says, kicking the door behind him. From his low-hung sleeves, he produced two scrolls, thin enough to be hidden under his clothes, and unravelled one. It produced an image of the Tenzanian plains and a group of small kingdom of what will be known as Kou.  “This just came in,” he announces, swinging the other scroll in the air. “There has been trouble on the Silk Road – some Kogan Moors have been ambushing merchants and stealing their valuables. Merchants of our Empire have been complaining of not receiving goods from their trade posts at Koga.  As usual, the senators have chosen _us_ to deal with the infestation.”

“And?” Mu asks, curious of the disgusted tone of the lad when he talked about his superiors. “What seems to be the problem?”

“The problem?” the man asks, totally perplexed of his answer. “Pernadius, the Council wants _you_ dead! They want to disband the 12th legion, they want to put all of your hard work to shame, and they want all of us to bring our asses to the gallows!” he shouted. “They’ve been putting us in perilous quests and adventures with little resources or cavalry support just to see how long we’ll last! The Tenzanian plains are no joke – I’ve crossed that shitty desert and almost died trying!”

There it is, his ancestor’s name. He wants to clarify to this man – _soldier,_ his mind whispers – that he is not his ancestor and he doesn’t know what is going on, but there is some sort of force that is acting upon his lips, preventing him to utter the words he wanted to say. Unaware of Mu’s dilemma, the man tries to compose his anger and collapses on one of the lush seats, sighing. “Look, I know you’re a General and a loyal citizen of Reim, but,” he tries to hold his tongue, but fails. “You’re our chief! The reason why we’re risking our lives out there is not because of Reim, but of you! If you didn’t find us, battered and broken in corpse heaves, then we wouldn’t be here at all – with food, clothes, and a new life to live for,” Mu can’t help but be reminded of his men, of Lo’lo who, like this man before him, has been freed from the shackles of slavery.

“I-I just _can’t_ let the pigs of the Council put you in danger just because of some game they place among themselves.” The man says, pausing to breathe. He fiddles the scroll within his fingers. “But that is not the primary reason why I came here. The magician legion had encountered an attack this evening at the city’s southern gate. They were practically ambushed. Scheherazade’s men were able to fend them off but…”

The mention of his master’s name brings shivers of concern to his core. “Scheherazade? Where is she? What happened?”

The man’s expression makes Mu’s stomach drop.

Without a moment’s notice, he dashes out of the room. He averts the men and women loitering at the narrow hallway and makes a sharp turn at a left. Mu’s mind wanders to the people he passes – the wounded soldiers, the bandaged magicians, the busy healers – as his body carries him to his destination, where Scheherazade lies. He prays to Solomon that his master is alright while he pushes the image of Scheherazade’s corpse on her pedestal, cold and withered, off his mind. Mu senses his destination and stops at a closed door. He opens it without hesitation and he is immediately greeted with the strong scent of herbs and bloodied men. Healers dash back and forth to tend to the wounded; his senses drown in the groans of agony and images of flesh wounds.

A man wearing a skin of a bear on over his head and shoulders stops and looks at his figure. His face contorts to one in confusion and annoyance and Mu gets a good look of the man. Only bulkier and stoic, this man is identical to the one who visited him earlier. The man with bearskin marches over to him and tries to push him out, grunting and huffing.

“Let me go! I need to see Scheherazade!” Mu exclaims, but the man shakes his head and continues to push him away.

“Romulus, where are the herbs; Marcus needs them no – G-General?!” a woman of a voluptuous build and ginger hair walks to him. Her hair, arranged in a bun, looks awfully messy, while her armour, fashioned more as a tight dress than a suitable body shield, is stained with blood. In her hands, she held soiled bandages and a knife. The man pushes harder.  

Mu groans. He tries to muster his Fanalis strength, but it is missing; he is hopelessly overpowered. He only manages to skid against the floor. “Scheherazade – “

 “I know, General,” she says, grimly. “But, you being here is not helping. We are understaffed – more are sick and wounded than the healers. If you really want to help her and your men, you have to trust us. You’re not a magician or a healer; you can’t help her this time.”

Before Mu can retort, the man pushes him away and closes the door. He collapses on the wall, exhausted. As he hears the bustling shouts and pained groans of the men inside, he wonders how Scheherazade looks and how she is in so much pain. How things could’ve been different if he is born as a magician or a healer, or conquered a Djinn that can heal. If he had such a power, then surely he could’ve done something about her deteriorating health, the pains of her original body, or Titus’ health. Then maybe, just maybe, she could still be alive and well right now, telling the same story of the village idiot and the warrior princess to Titus and Marga just as she did to him and Myron. Mu bites his lip and feels a tear well in the corner of his eyes.

 When he blinks the tear away, Myron’s worried face is hovering over his. Mu realizes he is back in the castle, particularly the infirmary, surrounded by a handful of the Fanalis corps, Titus, and Sphintus. Relief and joy break in their faces as he recovers his bearings, and Myron unabashedly throws her arms around him. “What are you doing you idiot brother!” she sobs. “You got me worried!”

He puts his arms around her, stroking her red hair. He hasn’t done this since they were children. “I…I’m sorry Myron,” he says. Then he turns to Sphintus and Titus. The motion makes him dizzy. “What exactly happened?”

Handing a cup of tea, perhaps a mixture of herbs only available to Heliohapt, Sphintus answers his question. “Drink this, it will make you feel better,” Sphintus instructs, and Mu does what he is told. “You fell unconscious. We weren’t sure why, your body didn’t show signs of any illness other than a slight fatigue. I think it is best if you take some time to, you know, recover.”

“No,” he says, though his legs and shoulders are screaming with ache. “Who will protect the Great Priestess?” And he freezes with his mistake.

But, Titus doesn’t show any recognition of Mu’s mistake and follows on. “Sphintus is right. You haven’t been yourself lately and your health isn’t at its very best. It would be wise if you recuperate for a few days before coming back into service.”

“But, what about – “

Titus smiles and pounds his chest, to where his heart is. “I know I may seem vulnerable and ignorant of the dangers, but I can take care of myself. I’m a great magician of my own right, and Sphintus can back me up if something happens. Right, Sphintus?” Sphintus nods, seemingly proud that he is recognized. “Don’t worry about anything!”

Mu tries to resist one last time, but Myron pinches his cheeks to silence himself. “You heard our magi! Leave the rest to me, okay!” she says. She pinches both of his cheeks when he shakes his head, and he finally relents.

Sphintus steps forward. “I’ll give you some herbs that you can drink. They’re design to help you recover faster,” he explains. “In the meantime, just stay out from any strenuous physical activity. Do that and you’ll recover in no time.”

“Thank you,” Mu sighs. But, he feels defeated. He feels useless in front of them. The only thing he can do for them is something that he is now unable to do. The female healer’s words in his dream resonate in his head, and he can’t help but lie down on his bed and rest his growing headache. Before he sleeps, he gazes out to the window, to where the Hero General Pernadius Alexius’ is laid rest, and something shimmers. Then spots begin to dance in his vision. Frustrated, he closes his eyes and sleeps without any dreams for which he is both upset and relieved about.


	3. Chapter 3

The third time it happened, Mu had only begun to realize what is happening to him.

Since his mandatory vacation after the fiasco that had happened at the Royal Library, Mu had been researching about the life of his ancestor, Pernadius Alexius. He had began spending most of his time at the library, reading the historical accounts of the great general. But, as an Alexius, Mu has already spent most of his childhood memorizing the general facts of their founding ancestor; All the things he read are all repetitions of his childhood memorizations. _The Great General expanded the borders of the Reim Empire until Cathargo, battling the vicious tribes of the Fanalis,_ Mu recites the memorized lines in his head. _After conquering the Northern part of the Dark continent, Pernadius Alexius is given a position in the Senate. He later on marries the Rhea of Sabines, and founds the prestigious line of the Alexius family._ But, as Mu comes in terms with those words, he finds no mention of Scheherazade.

Which is odd, to say at least.

From the historical records, there has been no mention of Scheherazade's origins. All these books have discussed his ancestor's achievements in the field of war and Scheherazade's ingenuity in politics, but none of them ever describes the relationship between them, as King Vessel and Magi. Mu has seen the relationships between Magi and King Vessel: Aladdin and Alibaba, Judal and Prince Hakuryuu, even Yunan and King Sinbad. All of them have been platonic or intimate in one way or another. So, it just doesn't make sense for Pernadius Alexius and Scheherazade to just be 'cooperative rulers'.

Mu sighs and closes the fifth book written about his ancestor's life. All of the books he has read have similar accounts of his life: General Pernadius Alexius conquers the Northern part of the Dark continent, becomes a politician, gets married, and continues the line. No Scheherazade, no mentions of his close friends and allies. It's as if his ancestor isn't even human - just a distant ruler to be respected.

Feeling a minor headache coming, Mu decides to leave the library, but not before taking the scroll that Marga had found, 'Pluto and Kore and the Kingdom of Cronus' of his beloved late Magi, and sneaking it out of the library. He knows that no-one is allowed to take any book or document out of the library, but Mu can't help it. First of all, this novel belongs to Scheherazade's study, which has been cleared out with the insistence of the Royal family. Second, Mu feels that this fairytale should remain private. Mu knows the story by heart and how it means to Scheherazade; it just doesn't feel right to have it read by people who sees no value in her work as an author.

Or maybe Mu just feels possessive of what Scheherazade has left, because he cannot have her in the first place.

Shaking the thought aside, Mu confines himself in his quarters and begins reading the story he has loved ever since he was a child. Mu remembers during his 5th Yuletide, where Scheherazade acted naughty for the first time and excused him from his classes, so they can rest and enjoy the holiday in the Royal library. Mu remembers staying by her side next to the artificial hearth she conjured using her magic, while she recounts the story of the valiant village idiot turned knight and the fiery warrior princess who falls in love with him.

" _Mu, are you comfortable?" Scheherazade asks she slightly increases the temperature of the hearth with her magic. Outside, snowflakes are cascading on the ground as chilly winds brush against the tree-tops. Mu slightly shivers and Scheherazade scoots closer. Mu blushes and takes this opportunity to be closer to his idol. When he feels the skin of his ruler - so soft, so delicate - his blush grows redder._

" _Y-Yes, Ms. Scheherazade," Mu answers. Scheherazade chuckles and shakes her head. "Scheherazade will do fine," and Mu imprints that in his mind._

_The pair basks in the warmth, silence, and isolation of the Royal Palace. Mu takes his chance and childishly tugs Scheherazade's dress made of thin silk and ribbons. "S-scheherazade?" he calls and the magi tilts her head. He loves it when he speaks of her name like they are equals. "Can you read me a story? The one with the village hero and the warrior princess."_

_Scheherazade smiles. "Oh, that one," she reaches for her wand and waves it. From one of the shelves, a scroll glows and floats towards her. She flicks her fingers and the scrolls unveils itself on her lap. She clears her throat and begins. "Once upon a time, there lived a man named Pluto who worked as a modest farmer in the fields of the Kingdom of Cronus. He wasn't the strongest, nor was he the sharpest, but he had a good heart. He wanted to be a soldier. So, when he turned 17, he immediately enlisted in the army._

" _Living in the palace of the Kingdom of Cronus was the princess named Kore. She was the eight royal princess and was born feeble. She was a magician born from a lowly concubine, but she was smart and creative. After being abandoned by her father, the king, she lived in the streets and gained the respect of the people who ruled the road. She ruled using all the dirty tricks of the trade and won riches through the games that no-one ever won. Until Pluto came in, that is, and asked her to turn a new leaf. She did, and she joined the military to follow him._

" _To others, Pluto and Kore never went along. Pluto was kind-hearted and gentle, while Kore was rough and strict. They were opposites of each other. People thought they were never going to get along, but deep inside, Pluto and Kore were best of friends. Only a handful of people could see through their insistent banter. Pluto had made Kore his friend because he saw goodness in her heart just as he saw goodness in people whom others thought were bad and evil. His persistence won, as expected, a handful of talented individuals in the army. All of them worked their way until Pluto became their General and his friends became his soldiers. Despite their hierarchy, they treated each other as equals, as friends. His battalion wasn't just a battalion; they were family._

" _But, for Pluto, Kore wasn't just a friend or family. He fell in love with her, just as she did with him. Over the years, they were lovers, surpassing rank and status, even though it was, according to the laws of the land, forbidden."_

Mu grunts as a flash of pain pierces through the right side of his head down to the left. He almost crumples the old scroll of his beloved Magi as he tries to wave across the pain of his headache. Fearing for the fragility of the scroll, he carefully rolls it and places it on his bedside; though, when he does this, his headache grows worse. Dark and white spots begin to dance in his vision, but by this time, Mu realizes what is happening.

He musters his strength and tries to counter this sensation by drawing the power of his Djinn, Barbatos. Instantly, he feels his rukh being pulled in opposite directions.

" _Mister Mu, the force is too strong! Anymore and you'll tear apart!"_ Barbatos screams in his head. _"I have to let go!"_

"No, wai-!" But, before he can even finish, he is pulled down into a dark tunnel that appeared just under his feet. He watches his room disappear into a small dot of light as he goes deeper and deeper into this void, losing all the feeling in his body. Mu surrenders to his fate.

* * *

And then, he resurfaces in the body of his ancestor, Pernadius Alexius.

It takes Mu a while to become familiar with the body of his ancestor. Although they have the same blood and came from the same flesh, this body feels foreign to him. The Fanalis strength that Mu prides in is gone, along with his red hair and wild eyes. His features are now characterized with his ancestor's tan skin, golden hair, and gentle blue eyes, along with his normal human strength but excessively golden heart.

The golden heart which the warrior princess, Scheherazade, has fallen in love with.

When he regains his bearings, Mu, in his ancestor's body, is currently surrounded by men and women intoxicated with good wine. Dancers of different tribes take the stage, and servants come to fill the guests with food and more wine. Mu recognizes this place; he is currently in a banquet hosted by a royal duke. The purple curtains displaying the royal emblem of the family is a proof of this.

He finds the female healer of his previous dream, whom his ancestor recognizes as Galen, and the man with the bearskin tunic named Romulus, having a drinking contest at his right. The soldier who came to his chambers in the previous dream, the one who holds great distrust to the Senate, named Remus, is complaining to a number of dancers of the corruption of the Empire. The dancers listen to his discussion with great interests.

He knows these soldiers' names by his own memory and his ancestor's. Mu has read all about those ancient heroes: Galen, the warrior healer; Romulus, the soldier of the strength of the mighty Ursa Major; Remus, the Great tactician, in the history books. They have been known greatly as the knowledgeable counsel of his ancestor and their descendants have been absorbed into the minor Alexius line. But, to his ancestor, as Mu reads the memories of Pernadius Alexius, these people are his ancestor's friends. Galen may have been promiscuous, but she cares for her friends, particularly their health. Romulus looks scary, but he is nothing but a gentle giant who loves animals. Remus works so hard that he can work while sleepwalking. These people, flanked beside him, are Pernadius' friends, family. They are like Myron and Lo'lo to Mu Alexius.

As he surveyed his surroundings, his mind rings with a name whose holder is not present in the party: Scheherazade. He does not see the flank of golden hair and her long wand, which she has won when she and Pernadius has embarked into their first and only dungeon. It worries him; she has just only recovered from a grave wound that could've took her life. He wants to keep a close eye on her as possible.

Pernadius excuses himself from the company of his friends, who look all too knowledgeable of his intentions. They excuse him and distract other people who try to talk to him. One of his close allies and friends Dionysus, a male member of the matriarchal Artemya tribe who chose to ride the White Tiger instead of the Bird, comes to him and says: "She's at the balcony." Pernadius thanks him and hurries to the place.

At the balcony, distant from the rowdiness of the banquet, Scheherazade stands against the railings as she looks into the stars. She looks as beautiful as ever, so gentle and delicate against the moonlight. But, Pernadius knows she is rough and stubborn. Her scars marred on her skin and flesh is a testament to that.

"There you are, I've been looking all over for you," Pernadius speaks as he comes to her side. She regards his presence with a pout; Pernadius knows she is all too jealous with his female company. Pernadius can't help it, he is enticed by women with good sets of breasts. However, there is only one person who his heart belongs to, and that's Scheherazade.

"Come on, don't be like that," he says, and he disregards social rules and etiquette as he brings her closer to her and gives her a sloppy kiss on the cheek. She complains, but she surrenders to his touch.

"I'm not jealous," is the first thing she says. "I wasn't watching you fawn over those women."

Pernadius shakes his head. She's lying, but she acknowledges, in her own way, that she is jealous. "I know." he whispers, leans towards her, and kisses her on the lips. She returns his eagerness with the same fervor. "I missed you." he says.

After a climb that should've killed them (but they are all too familiar with the act of barging through someone else's room through the balcony), they trespass into a beautiful bedroom that suspiciously belongs to the duke of the palace. Pernadius swiftly locks the door and Scheherazade sets her spells at the boundary, to deter people who try to come near the chamber. Once all the preparatory rituals are done, Scheherazade posed rather lewdly on the duke's bed and Pernadius charges in. He claims his woman.

Pernadius kisses the strong woman underneath him, plays with her little breasts, and strokes her stomach and thighs. He feels scars, but that's okay. Scheherazade touches his chest, his abdomen, and she feels scars. These scars are part of their life as soldiers; they are normal. But, Pernadius flinches when he touches a particular scar on her hip, and Scheherazade breaks their kiss so she can whisper: "I'm alive, I'm here."

Pernadius grunts, bites her neck, and undresses her.

Scheherazade is a rather short being, Pernadius is two times her height. But, she doesn't stop her from liking it rough, so he throws her down on her stomach and kisses her back. He marks her with teeth and saliva, and she moans with delight and lust. "Louder," Pernadius speaks, and Scheherazade obeys. Mu, stuck inside his ancestor's body, is forced to watch his beloved magi in such a lewd state.

Then, Mu feels his body come to his own, like he is given the reigns to a horse that he is riding. Soon, he realizes that he is now in control with the hands that are gripping her hair and her thighs. He feels the hard cock that wants to pierce her. He feels Scheherazade's soft skin and hears her mewls: "Oh take me! Take me now!"

Wanting to savor the same experience twice, he thrusts into her womanhood.

In, out, in, out, he repeats these movements with no care of his strength he is using. As a Fanalis, he always had to employ reservations when making love to non-Fanalis women as he might hurt them. But he is in a normal human body and this Scheherazade, in her original body, is strong and adventurous. She encourages him to go faster and harder, which he does. He turns her on her back and thrusts into her in this position as he fondles with her breast. With his height, he sucks on one of her breasts and she mewls. She snakes her fingers through his hair and pulls it with every thrust, and Mu feels strangely turned on with the pain.

Soon, she pants with lust and comes; Mu follows after. Mu feels slightly embarrassed for coming so much into her womb, then feels fear for having impregnated her. But then he loses control over this body as his ancestor soon takes over; Mu realizes, as he reads Pernadius' mind, that this is their intention.

As Pernadius pulls out, Scheherazade mewls. "You came so much," she comments. "How are we going to clean this up?" She gestures to the ruined sheets.

Pernadius shrugs and lies next to Scheherazade. He brings his magi close to his chest, which Scheherazade welcomes. "Don't know. I thought you were the one with the escape plan?"

Scheherazade slaps his chest, annoyed. "I can't clean this up with magic," she shouts. "It doesn't work that way!"

Pernadius laughs. "I know, I know. Don't worry, I have some friends that can help us out."

Scheherazade, scrutinizing what those words mean, furrows her eyebrows and rolls away from her King Vessel. She shields her naked body with her long hair. "Sure they would," she says, sarcastically. "You must have grown close with those dancers downstairs, didn't you?"

"Hey, come on, where's my sugar?" Pernadius asks as he scoots closer to Scheherazade. "What did I do?" Scheherazade doesn't answer and continues to pout. While a normal man may have been infuriated by this, Pernadius only chuckles and sets his chin on his hand. "Are you jealous again?" When Scheherazade shakes her head, still continuing not to give eye contact to her lover, Pernadius adds. "I was talking about Galen and Dionysus, by the way."

"...Oh," Scheherazade says before Pernadius brings the magi closer with a hug. He rests his chin on her fluffy head.

"Silly Sche," he teases. "You always get easily jealous."

"I do not!" she bristles like a cat. "

Pernadius only chuckles and nuzzles against her hair. As the evening wind blows through the balcony, the pair looks into the horizon - the capital city of Reim, full of tall buildings of rich merchants and lights of poor peasants. He and Scheherazade were once the latter. "What are you going to do after this?" Pernadius suddenly asks, catching Scheherazade off-guard. "We're not going to do this whole soldier thing for our entire lives, are we?"

"Why are you asking me?" Scheherazade retorts. "The reason why the I'm here with the others is because of you!" She pokes Pernadius' cheek. "Which battalion do you we think we signed up for, huh?"

"Ow, ow, stop that!" Pernadius complains, shoving Scheherazade's finger away. "I was just thinking!"

"Oh," Scheherazade rolls over to face her lover. "Thinking of what?"

"Our future."

Scheherazade stills, blushes and buries her face on Pernadius' chest. When Pernadius asks about it, she only replies: "Why do you look so cool when you say that!"

Pernadius shrugs. "I was thinking of retiring to grape farm with you and the others. We'll live in a large house and eat our meals together. I'll work as a farmer, Galen would open a clinic next to our big house. Rom and Dio would probably just work as a farmer like me; Rem would take charge of the finances. And you would be preggers - ow!" he exclaims as Scheherazade whacks his head. "I'm joking! You'll be the manager of our little shop. You'll be in charge of keeping me from doing stupid things, and we'll sell wine and herbs together," Pernadius sighs. "We'll earn enough money to get your stories published."

Scheherazade perks up. "H-how do you know about those! I keep them in lock and key!"

Pernadius shrugs. "You're not really good of keeping track of your chest. Sometimes you just leave them on your desk for everyone to see. Pretty sure Dio has read your first draft twice already." When Scheherazade gasps in embarrassment, Pernadius responds with a chuckle. "Come on, it's not that bad! We love your stories. I really think you'd become a great writer."

"You think so?" Scheherazade asks.

"Yeah! Plus, you based the characters on us! I think that's cute."

"H-how did you know about that!?"

"You're not really good at being subtle, you know?"

As Pernadius laughs on Scheherazade's embarrassment, he sneaks his hand to her abdomen. She places her hand on top of that.

"Praying for our future," Pernadius whispers as he intertwines his fingers with hers.

"Praying for our future." Scheherazade repeats as she tries to feel the rukh inside of her - the life that her magi body tries to form. Time will tell if their union will come to a fruition.

When Scheherazade falls asleep, the banquet is still in a blaze. Pernadius rolls to his side and looks at him, at Mu, and smiles. "There's something I want to ask of you,"

But, when Mu is about to open his mouth to ask, he feels a hole open beneath him, and he falls over.

* * *

Mu feels being pulled into a blinding light that suspiciously looks like Scheherazade. When Mu comes to his bearings and feels himself inside his original body, he realizes that that is only Titus.

"Barbatos contacted me. He said you needed help," Titus explained as he casts a spell on him, while Sphintus examines him. Sphintus gives him a clean bill of health. "Your rukh was so weak, we thought you were dying," the Heliotaph healer adds.

"I'm...just fine," he replies, still feeling Scheherazade's skin against his. "I think I know what's going on with me."

Two pairs of curious eyes stare at each other before focusing on him. "What?"

As Mu eyes the grave of Pernadius Alexius and Scheherazade, he finds the same shimmer. Mu identifies it as his ancestor's rukh. "My ancestor is trying to tell me something," he explains. "He wants me to do him a favor."

"Your ancestor?" Titus asks. "Pu, Pir, Pernadius, am I correct?" Mu nods. "What does he want from you? How can you see him?"

"I don't know," Mu admits. The shimmer flickers into a golden image of a soldier, but when Mu blinks, the figure disappears. "But, that is one thing I want to find out."


End file.
